By Kirsten Okenwa
Paris is…
A blouse. A silk blouse our father got for my sister from Paris in ’82.
An elegant blouse in white, with drawings of blue, green and gold ribbons dancing
an intricate tango.
This blouse,
This stylish, sophisticated blouse!
It represented the world beyond me.
My sister often wore it with a dark plaid wrap skirt,
and I simply adored the look.
Though I was a little girl,
this elegant blouse gave me visions of Paris;
beautiful people, gorgeous clothes, incredible scenery.
I would look at this blouse for minutes unending and dream;
Dream of me as a graceful woman strutting through the streets of Paris
in my splendid clothes,
or cruising in my vintage car.
Paris is…
that beautiful silk blouse that awakened beauty in me;
Beauty for a little girl living in northern Nigeria.
That lovely blouse was my crystal ball to the future;
A future of beauty and wonder,
A future where I could look spectacular, every day.
Paris is…
where I haven’t visited, yet.
But, beauty is alive in me.
I still love all things gorgeous and elegant.
Fondly, I remember that silk blouse of decades ago.
- Kirsten Okenwa
